


Drunk Lips and Snake Hips

by freudensteins_monster



Category: Norse Religion & Lore, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Drunk Loki, Drunkenness, F/M, Humor, Loki Does What He Wants, Married Couple, Masturbation, Mild Sexual Content, Reunion Sex, Sexual Humor, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 22:34:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5719510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freudensteins_monster/pseuds/freudensteins_monster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sigyn returns to Asgard after a month away only to be greeted by a very drunk, and very amorous, Loki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk Lips and Snake Hips

**Author's Note:**

> I whipped this up this evening after a friend assaulted me with an awful, awful prompt:   
> freudensteins-monster.tumblr.com/post/137269515631/ladyaudiophile-maevecurrywrites
> 
> It’s unbeta’d - yell at me later - and the title is… meh, but I was struggling to come up with something.

It was past midnight when Sigyn alighted in the Bifrost Observatory with all the delicate grace of a leaf upon a lake. She sighed wistfully and turned to the golden Gatekeeper with a warm smile.

“Greetings, Lady Sigyn. Welcome home.”

“It is good to be home, Heimdall. How fared the Realm Eternal in my absence?”

“All is well, my lady,” Heimdall replied slowly, his golden eyes seeming more distant than usual.

“But?” Sigyn asked.

“You have arrived too late to enjoy the festivities, I fear. The sons of Odin went on a hunt this morning and crossed paths with a dragon. It was a great battle, and your husband struck the final blow. He and Thor have been celebrating their victory since midday.”

“Oh,” Sigyn replied knowingly, a bejewelled hand covering her mouth as she stifled a laugh. “Thank you for the warning, Heimdall.”

“Of course, my lady,” Heimdall replied, offering up a rare smile.

Sigyn curtseyed and left the Gatekeepers stoic presence, taking the reins of her mare from the waiting guard, and returned to the palace. She couldn’t wipe the nervous smile from her face as she thought of all the mischief her drunken husband could have gotten up to in her absence.

 ** *** **

“Sigyn!” Loki cried when he spied his wife enter the great hall. “You’ve returned to me!” he shouted joyously, abandoning his drinking companions, stumbling backwards off the bench in the process, to sweep her up in his arms.

Sigyn squealed and tried to push her husband away as he assaulted her with his lips. “Loki! Please, dearest, we’re in public,” she pleaded, her cheeks growing redder as more and more eyes turned their way.

“You’re wife, right – right, wife,” Loki slurred before kissing her passionately. He pulled Sigyn close, her hands now covering her blushing face, as he addressed Thor and his friends. “My beloved demands that we retire to our chambers for the evening. I bid you all goodnight!” Loki bowed low and, as he stood upright, threw a very surprised Sigyn over his shoulder.

“Loki! Put me down this instant!” Sigyn shrieked. Loki ignored her pleas and carried her out of the great hall, Thor’s boisterous laughter following them.

“There goes my brother, off to slay another dragon!”

 ** *** **

Sigyn struggled in vain as Loki carried her through the royal wing of the palace. Loki drowned out her protests with a dwarven drinking song, his hand occasionally straying to her ass. When they finally arrived in their chambers, Loki put Sigyn down long enough to slam the doors behind him, but then his hands were seeking her out again.

“Oh, Sigyn, how I’ve missed you,” he crooned as he tried to kiss her.

“You’re drunk,” Sigyn huffed irritably, pulling away from him. In all the centuries she’d known him, Sigyn could count on one hand how many times Loki had drunk excessively. He was mercurial at the best of times, and alcohol failed to make him any easier to handle, but Sigyn was never one to bow to his fluctuating moods.

“Aye, with good reason, beloved. It is not every day I face a dragon and outshine Thor with my great deeds, he preened. “You remind me of the beast,” he added conversationally, his forehead pressed to hers.

“That is twice now that the sons of Odin have compared me to a dragon. I do not appreciate the comparison.”

“Thor was just being crude.”

“And you’re not?”

Loki shook his head, swaying slightly with the effort. “You seem so regal, so proud… but underneath that hard exterior,” he mused, his fingertips alighting across the neckline of her gown before moving slowly between her breasts. “Such fire… Why am I the only one who gets to see your fire, hmm?” he asked drowsily.

“It is only for you,” Sigyn replied, her eyes fixed on his lips as his tongue darted out to wet them.

“Mine… All mine…” The words spilled over his lips as he tried to press them to Sigyn’s. Except he missed and almost keeled over with the force of his amorous efforts.

“Oh, Loki,” Sigyn griped, pushing him away. “You’ll not have me until you sober up,” she swore, pouring him a glass of water.

“It’s been far too long, Sigyn. I need you,” Loki whined, leaning back against the chamber door as he palmed his hardening length.

“It’s only been a month,” Sigyn replied with a roll of her eyes.

“It’s been agony. Night after night without you in my arms, whilst you traipsed across Vanaheim without giving me a second thought, I’m sure.”

“I was not traipsing anywhere – I was studying. And I thought of you every day - stop being dramatic.”

“You missed me?” Loki smirked, approaching his defiant wife again. “Did you miss my touch, wife? Did you miss the way I make you feel?”

“I… Yes, of course… But, no, Loki,” Sigyn stammered weakly, putting the glass of water between them. “Not until you come to your senses.”

Loki grinned ferally before extending his tongue and lapping at the water, licking his lips obscenely as he walked backwards towards their marriage bed.

“I’ll have you, wife. I’ll have you begging me to take you…”

“I highly doubt that,” she sighed, sipping on the water. “What… What are you doing?”

Loki began undressing, slowly, buckle by buckle, his eyes never leaving hers as he shrugged off his surcoat. He struggled with his boots, hopping on one foot, and then the other, as he tried to pry them from his feet – his addled mind forgetting to undo the lacings first. Sigyn’s amused smile faded as Loki removed his tunic and undershirt. He took his time, revealing his well-toned torso bit by bit, his hands caressing his pale flesh. He smirked when he heard Sigyn’s fingernails scrape along the metal cup in her hand, his victory almost tangible. He threw the shirts at Sigyn’s feet and fell back on the bed, laughing as Sigyn continued to fight her desires.

“Join me, wife,” he teased, rolling his hips as his long fingers worked on the lacings of his leather trousers.

“No,” she murmured weakly, her defences crumbling. Loki bit his lip, his hand sliding beneath the waist of his pants to stroke his length, gasping as his hips bucked at his own touch.

“Sigyn,” Loki growled. “Discard your gown now before I rip it from you.”

Sigyn groaned with need, ignoring the clatter of the cup as it hit the stone floor as she pulled her gown down over her shoulders and shimmied out of the fine garment. Loki’s roamed over her bare skin hungrily, pushing his trousers down over his hips as Sigyn straddled him. His fingers twisted in her hair as he pulled her down to meet his lips. It was needy and sloppy, but Sigyn didn’t care, biting his bottom lip and then kissing her way along his jaw and down his neck. His abdominals trembled as she moved down his torso, her fingernails trailing down his sides. As her tongue traced the deep grooves below his hips. Loki pulled on her hair, softly urging her on, but Sigyn’s lips had barely grazed his member when she felt Loki’s hands fall away and his body go still beneath her. She raised her head and was greeted by the sight of her husband snoring softly.

“You must be joking,” she muttered, climbing off the bed and ripping the leather trousers off her husband’s unconscious form. She laughed bitterly to herself, abandoning the trousers on the floor with the rest of their clothing, before storming off the bathing chamber for an exceedingly long bath.


End file.
